


Column Filler - Street Cleaning Day

by Etron81



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, Street Cleaning Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1353751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etron81/pseuds/Etron81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My account of my ordeal during street cleaning day and my obligations to the Night Vale Journal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Column Filler - Street Cleaning Day

I start my day like any other, picking up my copies of the Night Vale Daily Journal. This paper route has gotten much easier since the Journal switched to a “Imagination Edition” - I hardly ever strain my back anymore! I peruse the paper quickly, scanning the colorful headlines and moving pictures to keep abreast of the goings on in town and to check the weather forecast to see if I need to take my steel umbrella, as the weather on the radio is less than informative on this point. 

 

In the back in the municipal announcements section I see the dreaded words in unassuming Comic Sans: Today is Street Cleaning Day. STREET CLEANING DAY. The words echo through my mind and I count myself lucky that I did not run into cleaners as I collected my allotted papers from the burned-out shell of the distribution plant. I consider abandoning my route, but I am required by contract to complete my route, else I forfeit my soul, and souls are a huge commodity now - I want to keep mine until the price rises a bit more. 

 

I walk my route, mentally projecting the Journal into subscribers minds as I walk down the street. Ever vigilant, I strain to hear the sub-sonic hum that is the only warning of the oncoming terror of the street cleaners. That is, it is the only warning other than the screams of their unfortunate victims. My heart rate increases as I detect the hum turn down the street. I then see their terrible visage and I quickly close my eyes to avoid going insane.

 

As the cleaners approach, I throw out some litter and then freeze myself, remaining still and lowering my body temperature until all fluid in my body is frozen solid while i strike a classical Greek statuesque pose, as all Gazette carriers are trained to do. The cleaners pounce on the decoy litter and pass me by. They seem confused, but continue on with their bloody work. I rapidly thaw myself after they are gone and finish my route, stepping around the various organs, limbs, and other viscera left in the cleaners wake. I must be quick, for they will return to remove this red trail of gore. I hurry home, slipping on a mutilated pile of entails and nearly breaking open my skull on the flagstone sidewalk. As I did not finish my route, the Journal immediately took possession of my soul. However it had been damaged in the experience of Street Cleaning Day, and per subclause 12π of my delivery contract, I am now obligated to write filler pieces and advertisement copy for your Weekend Edition of the Journal every Thursday. I hope you have enjoyed this first entry in this new series. Next week, I will be exploring the exciting world of salt - it’s history, it’s culinary and sartorial uses, and even its life saving properties when used during a heart attack


End file.
